Retreat, retreat, retreat.

I awoke at 0415 according to my watch and was just about to turn over when I realised that was WA time and that SA time was almost 6.  I washed, dressed and went to the main building for coffee where I discovered that it was 0445 local time.  The WA and SA times make sense, but it's the "local
time" or the officially unrecognised Central Western Time Zone, which requires you to set your clock forward or back 45 minutes, which catches visitors out.  The time zone exists for about 340 kilometres and takes in the tiny roadhouse communities of Cocklebiddy, Madura, Eucla and Border Village.  Anyway, I had to kill time waiting for daylight when I set off heading for NSW, again in the rain.  The stream of traffic, chiefly 4x4s towing caravans, heading towards SA that morning to return before the border closed resembled a stream of refugees reminiscent of a disaster movie.  This was in contrast to the week earlier when I encountered traffic only every few minutes.  I knew that there was little chance of NSW closing its borders but I was less confident that Victoria would be the same so, although a route taking in Victoria was a little shorter, I headed for the nearest place in NSW, Broken Hill.  That was a 2 days ride and I stopped in a place called Wudinna on the Tuesday night.  Again take away food eaten in the room.
The forecast for Wednesday was for blue skies and no rain so I dressed accordingly but it was drizzling a little on departure and it was decidedly chilly.  I stopped to don my waterproof jacket and gloves after a while which was more comfortable.  The road after Port Augusta was superb starting with Horrocks Pass through the hills of the Flinders Ranges and then the hills to the east of Cockburn on the SA/NSW border.

One stretch of road must have been traversing a wildlife corridor because there were the remains of dead animals every few yards for a considerable distance.  The Barrier Highway is flanked for a large part of its length by the railway and I saw a couple of very long freight trains, one with two locos pulling a large number of rolling stock with various cargoes.  It was here that I began to see some of the large number of feral goats which populate the area.  When in Wilpena Pound I read of the effort in the Flinders Ranges to cull these goats which compete with native animal species for valuable and sparse fodder.  I reached Broken Hill and as I  refuelled I asked the young attendant if he could recommend a reasonable motel.  He directed me to the Red Earth Motel, probably the swishest, and most expensive, in town, the polar opposite to the one in Salmon Gums and only twice the price. 

I enjoyed a takeaway pizza from a local Italian restaurant and a takeaway (bars are closed to sit-in custom) six pack (cheaper than 4 individual bottles they assured me!) from the local pub.
I was faced with the decision whether on Thursday I should do the 829kms (515 miles) to Wagga Wagga in one or two days.  I decided to go for the long haul and I told my daughter to expect me at around 6pm.  Again I left just after dawn and although it was quite chilly the day was clear with blue skies.  The 265kms (165 miles) to Wentworth was interesting in several respects.  The road was very quiet with very little traffic; I calculated that I saw one vehicle, normally a road train, going in the opposite direction only once every ten minutes.  I did see a fair number of kangaroos, both grey and red, beside the road which was a little disconcerting given their reputation for committing hari kari in front of vehicles, in addition to a large number of feral goats.  The terrain was a mixture of scrub,
small trees, white and red sand.

  The ride was uneventful but I could have done with the Corbin saddle from my ST1300!  I arrived at my daughter’s at 1801, not very punctual I know.
2,235 miles covered in 5 days - not bad for a ‘small’ low powered bike riding into the weather for much of the way.

 Again, because I pinned it for most of the way fuel consumption was dire but with the Himalayan being generally quite economical and with fuel being practically half the price of the UK I was not overly concerned.  The rear tyre, however, was almost bald in the centre, the result of so many straight roads in the 9,148kms (5,684 miles) covered since 25 February.

It has been a frustrating few days.  I was well into the rhythm of the trip and I was feeling fitter by the day with the combination of long stints in the saddle and climbing in and and out of my small tent.  I was looking forward particularly to seeing the west and north of the country which I understand is very different to the areas I have visited already. Perhaps next year.
I am in Wagga Wagga weighing up my options as my return flight has been cancelled.

Decisions, decisions, decisions

After leaving Esperance in sunshine on the morning of Saturday 21st, the weather slowly deteriorated and by midday it was raining steadily.  I was aiming for a camping ground about 100kms short of Albany but when I reached there it was still raining and as I didn’t fancy pitching and then striking the tent in the wet I again decide to seek accommodation.  I ended up in a very nice motel/hotel (sometimes it is difficult to tell the difference although I suppose that if you have a parking space outside your door it is a motel) in Albany where I had the best food on the trip so far (calamari starter followed by fillet steak).  Later that evening I received a message from my brother forwarding news that the borders to the Northern Territory were to be closed on Tuesday.  That area was to be a major part of my tour and I considered riding up the west coast to Port Headland towards the northern part of WA and returning south on an inland route to cross the Nullarbor again.  During a sleepless night I decided in the early hours that I should return to my daughter’s home in Wagga Wagga as:
A. The coronavirus situation was likely to become worse before it became better
B. I had heard that most pubs and restaurants in Perth had closed so the same was probably true elsewhere
C. Qantas might rearrange my flight and I should be in Wagga where I could leave the bike and from where I knew I could fly to Sydney.
I departed Albany following a hearty cooked breakfast and headed east(ish).  I looked at the weather forecast and saw that there was a high pressure area sitting off the south coast of Australia.  Great, I thought.  Clockwise winds so they will be behind me crossing the Nullarbor.  There was a great clang as the penny dropped – I am in the Southern Hemisphere so the wind direction around cyclones and anticyclones is reversed.  So, headwinds for the next few days!
Again it was wet (where is the famous Australian sunshine and the droughts I had heard about I thought) and I reached a settlement called Salmon Gums, about 100kms before the start of the Nullarbor, at about 1715 where I found accommodation for the night.  It was described as a hotel but the accommodation side was nothing short of a dosshouse all for the exorbitant sum of £32, but beggars can’t be choosers.  I was the only customer in the bar and the ‘landlord’ and ‘landlady’ more than matched me drink for drink – it was more one for him two for us.  To cap it all they had decided not to provide food that night.  Thank goodness for the earlier cooked breakfast.  It was whilst there that it was announced that SA and then WA were to close their borders on Tuesday afternoon at 1600 as well.  I was very pleased that I had decided to return when I did.  I would not have made SA in time if I had continued for just another day.

I was up at the crack of dawn and on the road with the earlier warning to look out for the kangaroos, camels and feral horses on the way to Norseman in my mind, the period just after dawn being a dangerous time for travellers to encounter wildlife on the route.  Again the weather was atrocious with strong winds and torrential rain at times on the exposed expanses of the plain.  In view of the weather and the border situation I started looking for accommodation from the third roadhouse before the border but they were all full.  My last shot before dark was immediately after the SA border in Border Village.  I was told that they were full!  I was faced with sheltering under the veranda canopy for the night or riding 209kms in the dark and rain (suicide on a bike because of kangaroos etc in the road) to the next roadhouse which would be full as well probably.  It would have been impossible to pitch a tent in that weather.  The guy behind the counter must have felt sorry for me because he went to the office, spoke to someone and returned with the news that they had one room left.  The room
was reasonably comfortable and as well as air-conditioning it had a wall mounted convector heater – dry clothes for the morning!  Coronavirus measures in place meant that only take away food was available to be eaten in the room, wonderful as all I had consumed all day was a coffee at Norseman early in the morning.

Esperance

I had decided to spend three nights in Esperance and the campsite was so comfortable that I could have spent longer.  Each pitch was numbered and although the number for tents was relatively small, the majority being for caravan and camper vans, they were surrounded by grass with a fabric base sheet making it an ideal surface for the tent.  Being a belt and braces type of bloke I nevertheless spread my footprint groundsheet as well.  As soon as my tent was erected I was approached by a couple of elderly ladies who engaged me in conversation.  They were from a place on the coast of Western Australia north of Perth and the brother of one, who was a retired cray-fisherman, has a motorcycle collection.  She told me that he had 7 or 8 Vincents and she gave me his contact details so that I could visit on my way through.  She phoned him and told him to expect me.  They then invited me to share some wine with them and we had a good old chinwag.  Seems there was a lot of money to be earned in cray-fishing!  I subsequently discovered these links - https://advrider.com/f/threads/largest-private-vincent-collection-in-the-world-jurien-bay-wa.1269996/
and https://www.bikeshedtimes.com/from-hrd-to-black-lightning-and-rtv1200-ian-boyd-has-amassed-the-ultimate-vincent-collection/
I spent the following morning on domestics (haircut, shopping, drinking coffee etc) and in the afternoon I rode along the coast where I saw some spectacular beaches.  I was told that although nice they don’t compare to those on the west coast so further whetting my appetite.

I also went to view the pink lake for which Esperance is famous, but it was white!  It appears it has not been pink for a number of years.  Seems to me that there has been a bit of a breach of the trades
description act as the town still stresses the attraction of the pink lake and it features in most of its
advertising.

I had the tappets serviced on the Friday to meet the conditions of the warranty and it came out of the workshop sounding less like a Singer sewing machine.  Incidentally, whilst in Esperance I emailed the RE dealer in Sydney for advice on the suspension.  It is very inconvenient to have to search continually for a camber when putting the bike on the sidestand, particularly at petrol stations where, apart from country ones where the ground is often unsealed, the surface is relatively flat and even.  I was given the details of a firm in Perth and on telephoning them I discovered that they had experience of the problem and they had modified the suspension on a number of Himalayans, including the owner’s own machine.  So I booked the bike in for the work to be done the following Thursday.  Later that day I rode along the coast again and also visited several of the local lakes one  of which was teeming with birds.  The only other people there were an elderly couple who told me they visited this lake every day and that they had never before seen so many birds there.

It  rained overnight and I packed up leisurely in sunlight hoping the tent would dry before departure.  It did largely and I departed for  Albany to wend my way around the rest of the south coast of WA.

Nullarbor Part II

This was taken at night during the peak of last night’s storm and the scene is illuminated purely by the lightning!

Immediately after leaving the Caiguna Roadhouse I started on the 96 miles straight.

I must admit that I noticed little difference as the whole crossing of the Nullarbor seemed to be in a straight line, although I admit there was the occasional deviation of a degree or two at times.  The sky was very grey as can be seen in the photo but fortunately it cleared gradually to clear blue but there was a chill in the air.   I came across an area which had been subject to recent bushfires and it stretched for over 20kms.

 On reaching the end at Norseman I turned south for Esperance and on the outskirts I spotted the dealership who would be checking my tappets to conform to the warranty conditions so I stopped for a chat and to discuss possible solutions to my rear suspension problems.  Whilst there a bloke turned up on a Harley and I asked him to recommend a campsite.  He came up trumps and I have been very comfortable here.

The Nullarbor

I left Port Lincoln to ride up the west side of the Eyre Peninsula.  It was far more interesting than the east side with lovely beaches and picturesque little towns and bays.  Among others I diverted to Coffin Bay, Venus Bay and Eliston, and most of these landmark places appear to have been named by Royal Naval seaman as they sailed by at the time of the ‘discovery’ of Australia.

Towards the end of the afternoon, as usual, I was looking for a place to camp.  I spotted a sign for a 

camping ground off the main highway so decided to follow it.  Well, after 20 or 30 kilometres of 

unsealed road, with the sign being repeated once along the way, I reached Sceale Bay, the supposed 

location of the site, but upon enquiring of a local, it appears that the site closed down a long time ago.  So I headed for Streaky Bay where I ended up camped on a beachside site and where I enjoyed a lovely dinner of locally caught whiting.

Having checked the tyres and greased the chain I left for the Nullarbor.  I stopped in the last town to buy some steel tent pegs and Have a bite to eat. The Nullarbor lived up to expectations.  Although quite barren with little, or at least very sparse vegetation, it has a kind of beauty if no shade or shelter for the most part.  It is not often that TomTom tells me to go straight ahead for over a thousand kilometres!

I refuelled at Penong and was given a list of the fuel stations on the Nullarbor with the distance between each.  This proved to be invaluable for determining when to stop to refuel.  Although I carry an additional 5 litres in a tank attached to the rack I am conscious of the need to refuel often.  The wind was a northeasterly so it assisted my ride and with an average speed of 90kph fuel consumption was good.  The terrain gradually changed from arable land, to low trees and scrub to merely low scrub.  After being on the road for just over 7 hours, and in view of the shelterless countryside I stopped and took a room in the famous Nullarbor Roadhouse, expensive but fair given its location.

I thought the flies at Wilpena were bad but here they were considerably more plentiful,  Again I was very thankful to have my fly net.  There were several dingoes slinking around and there were a number of warning notices posted warning that they are wild animals and could be dangerous.

After leaving the roadhouse the terrain became more interesting and changeable with sand and rocks in abundance.  I saw two dead camels, roadkill victims and I contributed to it myself when a small bird bounced off my screen.  Unlike when crossing into South Australia when my panniers were searched for fresh fruit and vegetables when crossing from S.A. into Western Australia on assuring the inspector that I was carrying no fruit, vegetables or honey I was allowed through without a search.  As the afternoon progressed the sky darkened and I was subjected to very heavy rain and strong winds.  I again decided to stop at a roadhouse and half an hour later the weather worsened.  Certainly not a good time to be in a small tent on the exposed Nullarbor.  Later that evening an enormous storm 

blew through with thunder, lightning, hail, very strong winds and torrential rain.  The ground around the roadhouse was flooded and I discovered the following morning that the roof had leaked and half the establishment was without power.  

I am having trouble with the internet connection at the moment so I will post this and continue later.

TTFN.

On the move again.

The tour to the Aboriginal wall carvings was interesting but it was sad to see some modern additions in the form of copy graffiti.  The main feature, though, was the plague of flies which followed us, 4 tourists and a guide, and I fortunately had taken my fly head net which was a boon.  I included a photo of it in my last post.  One thing I will remember South Australia for - the flies.
Having survived that mini walk I decided that I had to attempt to see more of this fascinating area.  So, yesterday morning I started a 6.6Kms walk to the site of an old homestead.  That went well so I continued to climb to the Wangarra lookouts up the hill above the homestead.  I reached the lower lookout, knee felt OK so I thought, s*d it, I will carry on to the top.  So another 2Kms added and no ill effects to mention.

Following an early lunch I went for a circular ride first to Blinman, the highest town in SA.  I then rode a 32Kms gravel road to Parachilna, the location of a famous hostelry, the Prairie Hotel, whose claim to fame is that “you have seen the kangaroos, emus and camels, now come to the Prairie Hotel and eat them”. 

I then headed south on a sealed road before riding another gravel road of 29Kms, this time it was less sphincter tightening as it was less travelled by large lorries which tend to leave large rocks and other debris to upset aged Motorcyclists.  It was on this second road that I saw my second emu, this time at very close quarters - it ran out in front of me and almost became road kill, although judging by the size of it I may have been the victim.

After an uncomfortable night of high winds which saw me wearing my head torch in the middle of the night to peg out the guys I rode south to the Eyre Peninsula.  It was a tiring ride of 498Kms because of very strong side winds blowing off the southern ocean which added a chill to the air so I decided to indulge in a motel room for the night.  Seemed a good idea after 8 nights under canvas.  I must be getting old!  Fuel consumption increased today, probably because of increased travel speed 

and high winds (down to 23Kms per litre compared to 25 at dawdling speeds.  

I will head up the western side of the Eyre Peninsula tomorrow where there are some more interesting places to investigate before I tackle the daunting crossing of the Nullarbor Desert.

TTFN.

Reached the Flinders Ranges

Having loaded the bike I set off fromWagga to Rutherglen via a TomTom twisty route.  All went well and I rode my first short stretch of gravel with no dramas.  The suspension felt a little wallowy at times but I thought little of it until I stopped to refuel.  Put the bike on the sidestand, climbed off, turned around and crash.  The bike had fallen over - loaded bike, suspension on softest setting, sidestand too long!  A loaded Himalayan is not the lightest thing to lift - felt a slight tinge in the back but all is well in that respect.  Reached Rutherglen and had a very relaxed weekend visiting wineries and sampling gallons of giggle juice.
Monday’s task was to get the suspension sorted.  C spanner required but these days they are not included in the toolkit.  So, seek out nearest motorcycle engineer.  30 mile ride but closed - public holiday in Victoria!  So on to a place in New South Wales, thankfully only another 15 miles or so, and suspension firmed up with help of drift and hammer - insufficient space to use a C spanner.
Pleasant ride through chiefly arable farming land and then scrub, swampy in places, and camped in Moulamein, reputedly the oldest town in NSW, where the site fee was £6 and I dined on a £3.50 microwave meal.  The camp kitchen was an old caravan which had seen better days but it did Sport a microwave.  Went to the local pub for a beer, only one as it closed at 8pm!
Tuesday saw more scrubland, or perhaps I should call it bush, and red sand with a number of side roads blocked by the sand drifts.  I ended up riding a great road with lots of bends and no traffic overlooking the river valley and I ended up camping in a luxurious site in Walkerie having made another river crossing by ferry.  I was going to free camp alongside the river but I came across several shady characters doing the same and decided on the campsite.
Greased the chain and checked the tyres before heading off to the Flinders Ranges.  After crossing the Murray River again by ferry the landscape opened out to flat bush land with a very strong headwind which revealed the power shortcomings of the Himalayan, reducing speeds particularly on inclines.
The road approaching the Flinders was good and apart from spectacular views of red rock hills, I saw my first emu which went galloping off in a trail of dust at the sound of the bike.  Apart from the plentiful dead kangaroos alongside the roadside I have had to wait until reaching my current camping ground at Wilpena Pound before seeing live roos which wander around the site.
I will stay here for a couple of days.  I have done my laundry this morning (!) and this afternoon I am going on a tour to see aboriginal wall paintings.  Sadly, my crook knee is not up to the spectacular lengthy hikes for which this area is well known.

First week.

The 500Kms service of the bike was brought forward to the afternoon of Thursday 27th so that I could travel to Wagga Wagga on Friday so avoiding the road closures and traffic chaos caused by the annual Sydney Gay Pride festival.  This meant that I had to crack the mileage in just over a day.  On Wednesday I rode to the north east of Sydney and joined the famous Putty Road and returned to Bondi via the Hunter Valley having clocked up 440Kms.  When I pulled into the dealership on Thursday afternoon there were 500.1Kms showing on the odometer.
Friday saw me riding the 300 miles to Wagga at a frustrating maximum of 50mph in accordance with the running in routine.
Last few days have seen me fitting a few accessories but annoyingly, I have been unable to fit the crash bars supplied from India because of missing crucial parts.  I have gathered sufficient bits and pieces from local engineering suppliers to get around the problem - I think.  Tomorrow will be the acid test.
In accordance with Murphy’s Law I broke a crown last night biting into a piece of chilled Toblerone! Fortunately my daughter managed to find a dentist who would see me at short notice and by Friday morning I will have a denture to last until I return home when my own dentist should be able to fit a replacement crown.  So that’s more beer vouchers down the tube!  My son reckons I look like a homeless person.  Several dentists here refused to see me as I had been in the country for less than 14 days - the coronavirus has everybody frightened.
I hope to start my tour proper next Monday following a weekend wine festival at a place called Rutherglen in Victoria.
I hope that future posts will be more bike/touring related.

Keep it between the hedges!